


sweet hearts in the storm

by LovelyLessie



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 15:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10699845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLessie/pseuds/LovelyLessie
Summary: Marinette forgets her umbrella. Again. Fortunately, Adrien helps out.





	sweet hearts in the storm

By the time school ends, the clouds that rolled in over lunch have opened up and turned into a storm, and it’s _pouring_ outside.

“Oh, no,” Marinette says, dismayed, as she peers out. “I don’t have an umbrella.”

“Girl, do you _ever_ check the forecast?” Alya says, giving her a sympathetic smile. “I have to get home and watch my sisters, but maybe you could come over…?”

“I’ll call my mom and see if it’s okay,” she says. “Can you wait five minutes?”

“Um, I think so,” Alya says, glancing at her phone. “As long as I can catch the train…”

“Hey, Marinette,” Adrien says as he approaches behind her, and she jumps about a foot as she turns to see him. “Hi, Alya. Is everything okay?”

“Marinette forgot her umbrella,” Alya says, and angles her head, thoughtful. “I notice _you_ have one…”

“Oh, um,” Marinette manages, feeling her face heat up. “No, I couldn’t ask you to…”

“I get a ride home,” he points out. “Don’t you walk?”

“Well, yes,” she says, flustered. “I was going to see if I can just go with Alya, though! It’s okay!”

Adrien looks between her and Alya. “Maybe I can walk you home?” he offers.

She squeaks and covers her mouth. “Oh,” she says, quietly. “I - I mean, if you want!”

He grins and nods eagerly. “I’d love to!” he says. “Let me just ask Nathalie quick, okay? Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

“Well,” Alya says with a smug smile. “Looks like that problem’s solved! I better run, I’ll be late.”

“Wait, um,” Marinette protests. “What if he can’t…”

It’s too late; Alya is already hurrying down the stairs and doesn’t seem to hear her. She shrinks back under the shelter of the arched doorway, wrapping her arms around herself as she shivers.

At the curb, Adrien leans against the car door, peering in the window until Nathalie rolls it down. “Are you waiting for something?” she asks coolly.

“I just wanted to ask if it’s okay for me to walk Marinette home,” he says. “She doesn’t have an umbrella, I don’t want her to have to walk through the rain. And she doesn’t live far, remember? I’ve been over before.”

Nathalie frowns, tapping her nail against the edge of her tablet as she considers it.

“Please?” he adds, giving her a wide-eyed look.

“Alright,” she agrees, “if you’re quick. I’ll tell your father we’ll be a few minutes late.”

“Thank you!” he says, beaming. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Text me when you get there so we can pick you up,” she calls as he turns away.

“I will!” he agrees, and gives Marinette a thumbs-up. Her face lights up so brightly he feels it like sunshine even from thirty meters away.

“Thank you, Ms Sancœur!” she shouts from the top of the stairs, her hands cupped around her mouth, before the car pulls away.

“Nobody calls Nathalie that,” Adrien tells her, laughing, as he rejoins her under the archway. “Come on, you’ll have to show me how to get there - I haven’t walked to your place before.”

“Right,” she agrees. “Um, I’ll just… lead the way, then?”

“Here, hold onto the umbrella,” he says. “That way neither of us will get wet, see?”

He wraps her fingers around the handle and rests his hand on top of hers, smiling, his eyes shining warmly at her. She feels her heart melt into hot caramel.

“Lead away,” he says.

It takes a minute for them to settle into a pace that they can both match; Adrien is a good few inches taller than Marinette, and all long model’s legs, but once they both adjust it’s so natural it feels like remembering, like they’ve done this before somehow. She finds that she doesn’t even mind not knowing what to say - it’s not so bad to walk next to him in silence, hand touching hand.

“Maybe I should start bringing two umbrellas when it’s going to rain,” Adrien teases her as she carefully sidesteps a puddle. “That way I can lend you one and keep mine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Marinette squeaks, blushing all over again. “That would be silly, I don’t need…”

“You’ll get sick if you walk home in the rain,” he points out. “Then you’d have to stay home from school.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Remember how sick I was last winter?”

She giggles. “Yeah,” she says. “You missed like four days of school.”

“And I was catching up on homework for two weeks,” he adds, grinning. “I don’t want that to happen to you!”

“Thanks,” she says shyly, ducking her head.

They reach the corner of the street and stop in front of the bakery. “So, uh,” he says, “you better get inside.”

“Do you want to come in?” she blurts out quickly. “My parents won’t mind, and it’s warm and dry, you can wait until your ride gets here…”

“I’d love to!” he says, beaming. “After you.”

She pushes the door open and ducks inside, holding it for him as he closes his umbrella and shakes off the rainwater on the doorstep. “Hi, Mom,” she calls.

“Welcome home, Marinette!” her mother calls, and hurries out of the kitchen. “Oh, hello, Adrien.”

“Hi, Mrs Dupain-Cheng,” he says, waving. “Um, do you mind if I come in for a minute while I wait for Nathalie to get here…?”

“Please, go ahead!” she says. “Marinette, why don’t you show your friend to the living room? Hold on, I’ll get you both something to eat.”

She grabs a plate and piles it high with pastries of almost every sort in the bakery before handing it off to Adrien, who stares at it openmouthed.

“Come on upstairs,” Marinette says, and leads him up to the apartment.

“Your mom is so nice,” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa. “This is so much food.”

“Well, no one can ever say guests don’t leave our house well fed,” she says, and laughs. “Eat up!”

He grabs a chocolate pastry and bites into it, closing his eyes with a sigh. “These are amazing,” he mumbles behind his hand, his mouth still full. “Your dad’s sweets are the _best._ ”

“You should tell him!” Marinette says, laughing. “Though I’m sure your chefs make lots better.”

He shakes his head vehemently and grabs a macaron off the plate. “Definitely not,” he assures her. “And anyways, I’m not really supposed to eat a lot of sweets and cookies.”

“Well, I get them all the time,” she replies, “so you should take all that home and save it! Though, it’s not as good when it’s not fresh.”

“Maybe I’ll just need to come back tomorrow and get some more,” he suggests, biting into a honeyed roll. His phone, sitting on the table, buzzes. “Oh - that’s probably Nathalie…”

“You better go, then,” Marinette says, and runs to the kitchen to get a bag she can dump the pastries into. “Here, put them in your bag so you can keep them in your room!”

“Thanks,” he says, grinning. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Marinette!”

“See you!” she calls after him as he ducks out into the hall.

She hears his voice downstairs shout, “Thank you, Mr Dupain!” and the bell on the door of the shop jingles as he runs out.

Face flushed and grinning from ear to ear, she flops down on the couch with her hand pressed to her heart and basks in the warm feeling in her chest for a moment before grabbing her phone to text Alya.


End file.
